


Differences

by illfit



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Slavery, patience - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illfit/pseuds/illfit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all you unbelievers out there, this is what freedom is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Differences

**Author's Note:**

> the rape warning applies to a moment between danarius and fenris, but it's not at all explicit and is more of a mention/inference. as always though, it is there so there is a warning.
> 
> otherwise this is more of a drabble that actually turned into something, and mildly cured my writer's block. it goes a whole lot of nowhere (at least i think). it more of focuses on the changes within fenris based on his past as a slave and his life now.
> 
> enjoy! :)

 

* * *

 

Fenris opens the door to see Hawke and his Mabari patiently waiting. The hound smiles lazily, headbutts Fenris's knee in greeting, and then pushes past into the mansion. Hawke is more polite, waiting for the invitation to enter before even thinking of stepping inside. This is Fenris's space. He owns it. He should decide.

 

_Danarius yanks open the door to Fenris's room, who scrambles up from his hay-pile bed to stand at attention. Hadriana pushes her way inside, grabs Fenris by the shoulder, and manhandles him to the door, where Danarius immediately clasps a collar around his neck. Fenris feels, momentarily, defensive. But this is not his space. This is Danarius's. He owns it. He decides._

 

They sit on the banisters as the hound roams the mansion, drinking wine and betting who will fall first. Fenris can hold his liquor, and Hawke sways backward before plummeting forward, off the railing and towards the lower level. Fenris catches him just before he hits, but the sudden halt of his diagonal trajectory ultimately has Hawke whacking his face against the wall beneath Fenris. They both drop down, Fenris taking care to not let Hawke take any more unecessary blows. On the carpeted floor, sitting cross-legged and facing one another, Fenris can see the blood drip in steadily increasing amounts from Hawke's nose. Hawke, however, is completely oblivious to everything except his hands, which he _swears_ are wings. He flew to the ground, he just knows it - magic is apparently useful for more than just fireballs.

Fenris returns moments later with a wet cloth, which he dabs at Hawke's nose and mouth with. Hawke explains to Fenris that he can fly, who laughs, but plays along. "Oh yeah, how do you know that?"

"I flew to the ground, Fen! Didnt'cha see it?"

"Majestic," Fenris whispers fondly.

 

_He's tossed on Danarius's bed as Hadriana locks the door behind them. Danarius wastes no time in shredding his layers - the important ones, at least. Fenris closes his eyes, imagines himself throwing Danarius off him, dragging him out of the room and throwing him over the railing, watching him fall flat on the great red rug on the entry floor. He does not - cannot - act on it, but he can imagine. He can imagine the great chandelier falling on top of all his disgusting followers when they go to check on him; imagine wiping the blood off the other slaves; imagine them all finding out what freedom is; imagine a world outside this nightmare._

_But a dream is only a dream, and when Fenris opens his eyes Danarius is still there, and they are still connected in all the ways he never wanted to be. When they're done, Danarius pulls out and looks down at him._

_"Get up," He mutters._

 

Hours later, they are seated in Hawke's favorite armchair, the one big enough to fit them side-by-side. Hawke has an old book open in his lap, one arm around Fenris's shoulders as Fenris reads aloud. His words are choppy, even more so than usual because of their tipsiness. Hawke is slow to comment on mistakes, and almost seems content with completely ignoring them in favor of listening to Fenris speak. His accent is thick, and each word sounds new in his voice. When Fenris stumbles over a particularly complex phrase, one that even has Hawke's intoxicated mind reeling, they switch roles and books. Hawke reads a newer book instead, slow enough for Fenris to follow and understand. Fenris soon finds himself drifting off to the lull of Hawke's soft voice, feeling safely vulnerable within Hawke's embrace.

 

_Fenris stands behind and to the right of Danarius at the party, sword handy on his back in case any danger is spotted. Danarius signs papers for the nobles that approach and denies the requests the peasants bring. Fenris couldn't understand any of it even if he cared to. One of the first rules of being a slave owner: no slave is allowed to be educated in literature. If they are educated, they are smart enough to not be your slave.  So he dozes instead, rests his eyes while remaining alert, keeping his ears open to any strange noises._

_Nothing comes. The party draws to a close, the guests linger before leaving, and then they are alone. Fenris, half-asleep, is left with both Hadriana and Danarius within a five foot radius. It is a mistake. Hadriana is calling in guards, guards are grabbing him, he is being taken to the cells, the cell door is being locked behind Hadriana, Hadriana is beating him._

_"Do not shut your eyes."_

 

Fenris wakes up in a bed rather than the chair he fell asleep in, and he jumps up immediately, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. His head swims from how quickly he rises and he finds himself falling. Or maybe he's imagining it. The mind _is_ a deceitful thing, but he doesn't ever remember the floor being this close.

Hands are planted on his shoulders - he realizes from how calloused they are that they're Hawke's - and he shakes his head in an attempt to make the dizziness go, but he only suceeds in making it worse.

"Easy now," Hawke mutters, more to himself than anything. Fenris is floating, anything Hawke says will go right over his head. "Just lay down. It'll be-" Fenris reels the moment the backs of his legs hit the bed, his shaken mind immediately forgetting that it's actually _Hawke_ and not Danarius as he knees him in the stomach. Hawke crumples to the carpet and Fenris stands over him, ready for battle. Almost too late does Fenris once again realize it's Hawke, and he's barely able to stop himself from kicking. He's about to kneel down, but Hawke stands with a grimace.

"You need rest, I'll stay up." Hawke lays out the offer even though it won't be taken. Fenris is stubborn at the best of times. If Fenris felt unsafe, he would stay up himself.

Fenris shakes his head, whispers, "Sleep with me," then hastily adds, "not like... just sleep." Hawke nods, and they both crowd onto the tiny bed. The Mabari joins them shortly, jumping up and laying across their legs, and all three of them somehow manage to stay on the single-person bed.

"It's okay, really." Hawke's chest rumbles as Fenris apologizes. "I still love you, I always will."

 

_"Fight if you want it so bad! You get nothing by taking this." Fenris is grounded by the words, floating thoughts once again on the moment, however distasteful it may be. Hadriana is standing over him, whip in hand. When Fenris doesn't respond, she whips him again. "Take your freedom by force if you want it!"_

_Fenris_ _spits out a mouthful of blood onto the stone beneath him. Its coolness beneath his burning body is relief enough to make him endure. Hadriana towers over his crumpled form, and Fenris tries to imagine what freedom even looks like. This life is all he knows, what possibility is there of the outside world being any better?_

_He still hopes, even after Hadriana continues punishing him. When she finally leaves and Fenris is alone in the holding cell, he imagines being outside, under the sun's rays. There is no one watching him, no one to make sure he is doing his work and not planning to run. There would be no work in the first place. He would be able to just lie in the grass near some flowers, and fall asleep with the pleasant smell of Embriums._

 

Fenris wakes first - well, the Mabari actually does, but seeing as he doesn't count as a person, Fenris elects to ignore that. Hawke is warm beside him, and while he seems a little uncomfortable from the cramped space, he still looks beautiful. His hair curls slightly from where it's been pressed to the pillow and his mouth is opened slightly as he snores. He's peaceful. Fenris decides that this is how he always wants to wake up; calm, safe, snug within Hawke's arms. Hawke stretches his legs out and rolls onto his stomach. He buries his face in the crook of Fenris' neck and snores even louder.

Too lazy to push him away, Fenris turns his head just enough to kiss Hawke's temple and then leave him be.

 

_Often times Fenris wakes up for no reason. He'll hear a noise, or feel as though someone is touching him. When he opens his eyes, nothing is ever there. There are times he thinks he is wrong, and he'll scour whatever room he's in -generally Danarius's bedroom - for intruders. He'll carefully look under the four-post bed, out the windows, and behind the doors. But he is always alone. Aside from his master's sleeping form, he is always alone._

 

Hawke is coughing, his chest making strange noises as he struggles to sit up. Fenris wakes immediately, searching for danger, only to find that it's Hawke's own lungs. The hound sticks his massive head in Hawke's lap and makes a low whine, almost like he's trying to intimidate the cough into stopping. Eventually, Hawke does stop, his breathing slows and the hound stops whining and leaves them be.

"Are you all right?" Fenris asks.

"Just fine, thank you." Hawke mutters sarcastically, voice hoarse from the fit.

"I'm sure. I don't think I know anyone that doesn't love being woken up be a coughing fit." Hawke rolls his eyes and smiles. He reaches out and wraps his arms around Fenris, and then collapses onto the pillows. In turn, Fenris makes himself comfortable on top of Hawke, who doesn't complain. He's used to this. They're both used to this.

"I was just breathless because of your beauty." 

"That doesn't make sense."

"How so?"

Fenris wants to answer,  _Because I'm not beautiful._ He wants to say,  _I'm not good enough for that_. He says, "You don't make sense," because he doesn't. Why someone like Hawke would choose to stay with someone like Fenris is beyond him. Fenris has no redeemable traits. He is utterly unexciting, compared to Hawke's stunning glory. Everything he lacks, Hawke has. Beauty. Compassion. Strength, Courage. Happiness. Hawke is better in so many ways that it makes Fenris ache with the need to see it all. Fenris was doomed the moment they met in the Alienage and they both know it. Fenris saw it there, just as he sees it now. Even as he thinks this, Hawke strokes his back, looks at him with such deep concern in his eyes that Fenris wants to share with him the things he refuses to even _think_ of.

"Fen," Hawke says suddenly, breaking his train of thought.

"Yes?"

Hawke's hands move to Fenris' hips, rest there as Hawke's eyes roam his face, looking everywhere but his eyes. "Can..." Hawke whispers, "Can we...?" He squeezes Fenris' hips in an attempt to make is point.

"Andraste, yes..." Fenris breathes. Voice suddenly too loud for this tender moment, he stays silent in an attempt to preserve the resplendency. The ratty linen beneath them is nothing compared to Hawke's touch, and he would give the world and more to always have him near.

"I am yours."

 

_Fenris is coughing, blood yet again splattering against cold stone. No one is beating him, that's hardly the issue anymore, but the blood is still there. It's as common in his life as Danarius, but to tell Danarius that this happens, that blood is so often leaving his body would be like a cry of need. It would show that he is unable to handle the simplest of things; pain, blood, suffering. He would be weak, useless. In the world of slaves and magisters, he can be anything but. A small part of him envisions a place beyond this, where he could seek help for his problems, but another part, the part Danarius has formed into the perfect slave, tells him that would is impossible. It's full of corrupt people with no purpose, where anarchy reigns and people die meaningless deaths._

_"Is that a place where you would want to live, Fenris?" Danarius asks. "When you could stay here and lead a life of purpose?"_

_Fenris does not answer. He knows his place is right here, behind the right wing of Danarius, thinking only of his desires, and what the next hour will bring._

_He can't help but wonder what lies in front of Danarius' right wing, what life beyond these stone-cold walls is, how others manage a useful life without slavery and magic. He wonders what freedom looks like._

 

"I-I... can't..." Fenris doesn't know how to deny Hawke this. He can't make love this way, not yet. Nevertheless, Hawke grins lovingly, threads his fingers through Fenris' hair and pushes it back from his face. He kisses his nose, his cheeks, lips, jaw, ear, everything, like he understands Fenris' hesitation. Like he understands  _him_. 

"That's all right," Hawke murmurs, fingers slow but seemingly everywhere. "We can do... other things."

Their skin glides together in a way that makes Fenris reel in pleasure, head thrown back in a gasp as Hawke lets out a filthy moan above him. They aren't connected the way Danarius and Fenris ever were, but is seems they couldn't be any closer. They're joined in every way that he and Danarius never could be. He never even wanted to be, not with Danarius, but with Hawke, things are different. He may also be a mage, but Hawke has shown him patience, love, stability. Things he never knew he wanted until he had them. He knows with all his heart that he loves Hawke, absolutely adores him in every manner of ways, even though he may not be able to say it just yet. He just hopes Hawke knows, and that he will wait until he can tell him himself.

As they continue moving together, hot breaths thickening the air between them, Hawke bites Fenris' shoulder softly, who thinks fleetingly about freedom, thinks  _this_ is exactly it. Having the ability to do what he wishes, to be able to control his own life and what he does and does not do. He knows this is what he's been yearning for.

This is what freedom is.

 

* * *

 


End file.
